


Dean's Bad Girl

by Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Female Ejaculation, Genderswap, Jealous Dean Winchester, Possessive Dean Winchester, female!Sam, slight Daddy!kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 17:43:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/751249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte/pseuds/Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not a lot of plot...basically some gender-swapped Wincest-y goodness.  SHAMELESS SMUT!  You've been warned.  Don't like it, don't read.  The rest of you perverts, ENJOY!!  ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean's Bad Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, they remain the property of their respective owners. I'm just borrowing them to play for a little bit. All the stories are done for fun, not profit.
> 
>  
> 
> So...I found [this NSFW gif](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mcexokscKK1qgl5swo1_r1_500.gif) after [Badbastion's](http://badbastion.tumblr.com/) Livestream for [THIS DEFINITELY NSFW WORK](http://badbastion.tumblr.com/image/46826034220) and it inspired a fem!Sam fic.  

Dean startles awake and rubs at his face, sitting up with a groan, “Sammy?”  His eyes dart around the motel room and he frowns, because his sister is mysteriously absent.  He makes a quick trip to the bathroom and sure enough, it’s empty.  Dean shrugs into a shirt and crosses to the door of the room, pulling it open with a yawn.  He takes one step out onto the sun-warmed sidewalk and stops dead in his tracks.

There, bent over the hood of the Impala is Sam, in the smallest running shorts she owns.  She’s wearing a pair of striped athletic knee socks and a plain white tee, a t-shirt that is nearly see-thru.  Sam straightens for a second then bends over to shove the sponge into the bucket at her feet.  Dean looks up at sound of a few groans and realizes that his sister has an audience as she washes the car.  He rushes forward and wraps a hand on her upper arm, pulling her up with a jerk.  Sam tries to pull away, dropping the sponge in favor of curling her hands into fists.  Dean lifts his free hand up to point a finger at her, “Don’t you dare,” and proceeds to drag her into the hotel room.

“Dean, stop!”  She struggles and he pushes her bodily into the darkened room.  Sam rubs at her upper arm and then shoves the center of his chest, “What is WRONG with you?!”

“ _You’re_ what’s wrong with me, Samantha!”  Dean jerks his thumb toward the door he just slammed shut, “What the hell were you doing out there?”

“I was washing the Impala for you!”

Dean scoffs, “Dressed like that?!”

Sam looks down at herself and shrieks, “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

Dean stalks forward and hooks a finger in the waistband of her yellow running shorts, tugging them away from her body, “For starters, _these_ are too short.”  Sam scowls when Dean releases the elastic to snap against her body.  “Half your ass hangs out of the them when you bend over.”  He palms a hand over said ass, pulling her against his chest, “and this t-shirt is way too see thru.”  Dean leans to speak on her lips, “And when you tie it like that,” he lifts his hand to tug at the knot above the small of her back, “it’s a little hard to ignore your tits.”

Sam whimpers and tries to press her lips against his, “I’m sorry.”

Dean pulls back and reaches up to wrap his hand in one of the pigtails on her head, yanking her off balance, “You’re always apologetic when you do something stupid.”  The blush spreading across her cheeks makes his eyes narrow, “You knew they were watching you didn’t you?”

Sam winces at the tug on her hair, “I knew the trucker was watching from near his rig, but that was it.  I swear I hadn’t noticed the other two!”

“You little liar.  You know better than to let anyone sneak up on you.  I’ve trained you better than that.”  Sam smiles and lifts a hand to his face, batting her lashes at him.  “I should punish you, but you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“Depends.”

Dean laughs and releases her hair, hands moving to cup her face, “You know I worry about you.  I hate when you do reckless shit, Sammy.”  Sam turns to kiss his palm.  “I’d be very upset if something happened to you, Babygirl.”

“I know, Daddy.”  Dean chuckles at the nickname and rubs his thumbs over Sam’s cheekbones.  “I just wanted to do something nice for your birthday and since I didn’t have a chance to get you a gift, I figured I would wash your Baby.”

Dean kisses her briefly, “I thought we went over this.  You don’t need to buy me a gift.”

Sam shrugs and takes a step back, out of his reach, “I know.”  She sits on the edge of the bed and leans back on her elbows.  Dean moves closer and lowers a hand, wiggling his fingers for Sam to lift her foot.  She obliges and Dean unties the laces, pulling her shoe off before releasing it and holding his hand down for the other one.  Sam rests her socked feet on his bare chest and wriggles her toes, “You pissed at me?"

Dean makes a face, “Nah.”  His hands are rubbing up the side of her calves and higher as he takes another few steps forward.  Sam smiles up at him and lifts her hips when he curls his fingertips on the waistband of her shorts, slowly pulling them off.  He sucks in a breath at the sight that greets him, “Goddamn, Sammy.  When did you-“

“Shave it all off?”  Dean nods, licking his lips.  “This morning.”  She grins up at him, “You can touch it.  See for yourself just how baby soft the skin is.”

Dean presses a knee into the mattress and leans over her, “That what you want me to do?”  Sam licks her lips and wraps both legs around his hips.  “You want me to touch your smooth little pussy?”  She nods and lifts her hips, bucking into him.  Dean trails his fingers over her belly, teasing over the newly shaved area, “Mmm it _is_ soft.”  His middle finger slides lower and Sam takes a breath, shuddering in anticipation.  He teases the tip of his finger over her clit and she mewls, “Such pretty noises.”

“Dean, please.”

Sam drags teeth over her bottom lip and Dean grins, dragging his thumb over her slit, “Please what?”  Dean lifts his gaze to hers and teases her clit, making Sam moan, legs tightening around him, “Tell me, Sammy.  Please…what?”

Sam licks her lips and pleads, “Please fuck me.”

Dean hovers over her mouth, “Scoot up.”  Sam crab-walks back to the middle of the bed, legs pressing together as she watches him strip.  She sits up, pushing at the knee-high socks before he snaps, “Leave those on, but take off the t-shirt.”  Sam nods, reaching back to unknot the tee.  She tugs it up and over her head, squeaking in surprise when Dean traps her arms and face under the white cotton.  He slowly peels the collar upwards, allowing only her mouth to peek out, “So obedient, aren’t you?”

Her voice is trembling and barely above a whisper, “I try.”

“Such a good girl,” Dean flicks his tongue on your bottom lip and then pulls back before she can kiss him, “but only when you want to be, huh?”

Sam snarls and jerks away, face emerging from under the t-shirt, “You’re such a jerk.  If all you’re going to do is tease me, then fuck off.”  Dean chuckles, tightening his grip on Sam’s arms still trapped in the shirt.  She struggles and hisses up at him, hazel eyes flashing dangerously, “Let me go, Dean.  Now.  I mean it.”

Dean instantly releases her and she flops backwards onto the mattress, legs splaying open.  She pulls the t-shirt aside off and glares at him, “I see.  Only the little bitch can tease.  Fine.  Have it your way.”  Sam stares at him, mouth agape.  Dean shifts to sit on the side of the bed, bending to pick up his jeans.

“Where are you going?”

“Out.”

“But,” Dean turns to look at her and arches an expectant brow, “it’s your birthday.  I thought we were going to do something together.”  Sam’s brows press together and she whispers, “You promised, remember?”

“Yeah, well that was before you started acting like a brat.  So instead of sitting here and fighting with you, I’m gonna go out and find someone who’s not a cock-tease.”  Sam’s eyes well up with tears and Dean instantly regrets what he said, “Aw shit, Sammy, I’m sorry.”  He drops his jeans and crawls to where Sam is sprawled on the mattress, hand cupping her jawline, “You know I didn’t mean it, Baby.”

Sam sniffles and rubs at her eyes angrily, “It’s fine.  If you’d rather find some strange that’s okay.”  She clears her throat, “but don’t expect me to be here when you strike out.”

Dean smiles on her lips, “I love when you get all jealous.”  His mouth teases over hers, tongue sliding along the seam of her lips, “My fiery little woman.”

Sam shoves at his naked chest, muttering, “Shut up, you ass,” but the words hold no heat and there’s a ghost of a smile curling her lips.  Dean slides his hand along her jawline and down her neck, thumb rubbing at the hollow of her throat before his fingertips trace over her collarbones.  He bends to mouth at the center of her chest, fingers teasing the underside of her left breast.  Sam’s back arches up into his touch, “Please.”

Dean exhales on her nipple, thumb dragging over the breath-warmed skin, “Shhhh, Sammy, I know.”  He circles his tongue around her areola and seals his lips around it, sucking gently.  Sam bows up and fists a hand in his hair, nails scratching at his scalp.  Dean slides a hand between their bodies to cup over Sam’s newly hairless mound.  He spreads her open with his index and ring finger, middle finger tracing over her slickness.  Dean lifts his head, taut nipple slipping free of his mouth.  His gaze locks with Sam’s and his finger presses into her once, twice and a third time. 

A series of quick little punched out gasps escape her, “More.”

Dean works another finger into her, thumb rubbing over her clit, “My sweet Sammy.  Always so fucking wet for me, aren’t you?”  Sam nods, hips rocking into each shift of his hand, “You’re such a bad girl…teasing those men.  Would serve you right if I invited them to join us.”  Sam’s eyes widen and Dean taunts, “The four of us would wreck this tight little cunt.”  His fingers curl inside her, dragging along her slick walls with each twist of his wrist.  Dean feels the telltale clenching and laughs, “You like that idea?  Me letting a group of horny men run a train on you?”  Sam’s legs tighten around his hips and Dean crushes their mouths together, growling out, “So fucking nasty.”

“Dean!”

“Come for me, dirty girl.”  His fingers shove into Sam’s body; thumb rubbing over her clit faster and faster, “Come all over my fingers.”  Dean pulls back to watch those beautiful hazel eyes widen, “I can feel how close you are, Sammy.  Come on, I know you want to.”  Sam’s hand wraps around his biceps, nails digging into his skin.  “Right, Baby?”  Sam nods, bottom lip caught between her teeth.  “You need a li’l bit of help to get you there?”  He gets another nod and Dean grins, pushing up onto his knees, “I have an idea…”

Sam watches him ghost his free hand down over her belly.  The second he presses the heel of his free hand over her pubic bone, Sam tries to pull away, “Dean, no!  Please!”

“Oh no, you said you needed help.”  He presses his fingers inside her as far as they will go, shifting his weight to increase the pressure of his other hand, fingers splaying over her naked belly.  Dean’s fingers work back and forth, “Let’s see…where’s my sweet Sammy’s magic button?”  The curl of his fingers make Sam’s legs twitch and the second Dean finds what he’s looking for, he muses, “There you are.”  He strums over Sam’s G-spot, faster and faster.  Sam’s chest is heaving, her breathing erratic and nearly frenetic.  Dean knows just how close his sister is, simply from the fine trembling of her legs so he does the one thing that will propel her headlong into an orgasm: he flicks over her clit.  One tiny shift of his thumb and Sam is screaming.  A hot gush of fluid spills over his hand and Dean groans, “Damn, Babygirl.”

Sam’s hands are fisted in the sheets, full-body tremors wracking her body.  Dean slowly eases the thrusting of his fingers, finally pulling them free of her body.  He brings both fingers up to his mouth and sucks them clean.  Dean covers Sam’s body, forearms bracing on either side of her.  He noses at her jawline and earns a soft little whine, followed by a breathless, “F-u-uck!”

The expletive surprises a laugh out of him, “You’re still coming?”  Sam nods, breath hitching as aftershocks course through her body.  “Good.  I love watching you come.  So beautiful.”

Dean kisses her, bracing his weight on one arm, his free hand reaching between then to guide his cock to her entrance.  A slight rocking of his hips and he’s pressing into her.  A groan filters into the kiss, his hips thrusting in and out.  Sam’s body undulates to meet each push into her body.  She gasps, wrapping arms and legs around him, fingers digging into the flesh of his back.  Sam blinks up at him, pupils lust-blown, “H-harder.”

The request is one he receives often.  Dean isn’t sure if Sam likes their sex brutal or if it’s something she _needs_ , but it doesn’t matter.  Dean can’t deny his Sammy anything.  He slams into her again, over and over, each crash of their bodies making them both grunt.  Dean’s mouth drops open with a harsh exhale as Sam tightens around him, the action almost painful.  “ You going to come again?”

“N-no.”  Dean arches a brow in disbelief, hips slowing, “Don’t stop, fucker.”  He laughs and pulls all the way out, only to plunge balls-deep, hips grinding against her, bodies flush against one another.  “ _Dean_ ,” the single word is both a plea and admonishment rolled into one.  Sam pulls him down to whisper, the words dirty-wrong-but-oh-so-right.  “I want to feel you fill me up, big brother.”  Dean sucks in a breath and in the next second he’s coming.  Sam purrs in his ear, “Fuck, Dean, you feel so good.”  Teeth tug on his earlobe and Sam is still whispering filthy things in his ear, “I love when you get all possessive.  Love when you show me just who I belong to.  You’re the only cock I want wrecking my pussy, Dean.  Just you.”

Dean’s arms give out and he barely avoids crushing his sister as he collapses on the mattress.  One arm drops across his eyes, “F-fuck!”  Sam giggles and tucks into his side, lips brushing over his chest.  “You’re going to kill me one of these days, Samantha.”

“Mmmmaybe,” Dean feels the smile against his skin and allows Sam to lift the hand from his chest, grinning when she kisses his palm, “but you love me.”

Dean chuckles, “Yeah, I do. You look good in green by the way."

Sam laughs, lifting her legs up to tug her socks back into place, "Thanks.  If I'd known they would have had this effect on you, I'd have worn them sooner."

He looks over and sure enough, Sam's grinning like a loon.  Yep, she'll be the death of him, but what a way to go.


End file.
